Aron
chewed his nails as he waited for the train to arrive. The press of
people waiting for the subway train were oblivious to his inner
turmoil. His Craigslist ad had finally yielded a result that didn’t
scare him witless. A few texts later and they’d
agreed to meet in real life to see if they had a connection.

"You
can leave him at the station if you don’t
like what you see. There’s
no obligation,”
Dan had warned him.

As
Aron pulled a sliver of nail from the quick of his middle finger, a
horn signaled the approach of a train. The mass of humanity around
him perked up a bit, people jostling for position in hopes of getting
a seat. Aron slipped to the back of the crowd, letting the throng
edge closer to the train. He wasn’t
getting on. He wanted to blend in, so he could walk away if the guy
seemed like a creeper.

The
train pulled up, sides shiny and red. Windows fled, faces blurring
before his eyes. Was it that guy? Or that one? Definitely not the
cute Korean guy with his headphones on. The train’s
brakes screeched and a hiss of air sounded as the carriages halted.
Doors opened, letting people pour out of the carriage. The wave of
people fled towards the light, spreading out across stairwells and
escalators as they headed up to street level.

Aron
found himself leaning up against a supporting pillar as the doors
closed and the crowd thinned. Suppose the man saw him and changed his
mind? He was skinny—too skinny, in his opinion—and barely looked
eighteen, despite the fact he was twenty-two. Wispy, chestnut hair
formed a mop on his head, and stylish silver-framed glasses augmented
his poor vision.

The
older man who stepped off the train right before the doors closed was
not at all what Aron expected, yet somehow he knew that he was the
guy from the ad. There was something dangerous about the glint in his
steel eyes. Stubble covered his chin, and grey hair covered his head,
flecked with black where age hadn’t
yet stolen all the pigment. He had to be in his late forties or early
fifties—older than his e-mail and string of texts had suggested—but
he was not unattractive.

Aron
had dated all kinds of guys, looking for someone he could forge a
lasting connection with, but none of those relationships had worked
out. He tired of getting pity fucks from Dan to feel a warm body in
his bed at night. Grindr was only a little better—the hookups he’d
had there were less than satisfying, to say the least. Guys always
said that he wasn’t
as hot in person as he was in his picture. Or they wanted to trade
dick pics.

It
might have been less of a problem if he actually had one.

His
Craigslist classified ad—his
last ditch effort, as Dan liked to call it—had laid it all out in
the open. Transman
seeking boyfriend material. Serious inquiries only. Looking for a
relationship.
Dan had seemed more than a little leery of him putting the truth out
there. “Let
me come with you,”
he’d
pleaded.
“I’m
worried you won’t
be safe. Or he’ll
be some weirdo with a kink who ditches and leaves you.”

I’ll
never leave you,
his voice had pleaded. Aron could only wish he was actually attracted
to Dan. He would have been a good guy to love, but his heart had sent
him to the friend-zone without permission. They had no chemistry in
bed together. There was no passion, no spark.

It
was a huge fucking shame, in Aron’s
opinion.

The
man from the train seemed unsure as he took a second glance at Aron.
The people around them seemed to disappear, narrowing down the odds
by leaving their path. Even the nearby bench emptied out, leaving
Aron feeling exposed.

To
Aron’s surprise,
the stranger sat on the bench, pulled out a book, and started to
read.

Finally
feeling safe enough to approach, Aron grit his teeth and sat down
next to him. He pulled his phone out, fumbling with it and checking
his Twitter feed. He ran out of material and swiped down to refresh
the list with an audible pop. One new tweet popped up: Dan, posting a
picture of them together in school. Aron closed the app, irked that
Dan would be bringing that up now. He hated pictures of himself
before he’d
started hormones.

“That
you?” The
man asked.

“Yeah.”
There was no point
hiding it: Aron had been upfront. No
more surprises,
he’d
told Dan. I’m
tired of rejection when they find out what’s
underneath my clothing.

“The
other guy?”

“My
friend, Dan,” Aron
explained.

“Looks
like a good guy. The kind of friend we all could use.”

“Yeah.
He is.” Aron
bit back how irked he was that Dan was present, even here. It seemed
like the man permeated everything he did. He needed out. He needed
Dan to not be there for five fucking minutes like a hovering soccer
mom. A soccer mom with benefits, but a mom all the same, nagging him
to be safe and careful, worrying about his welfare, needing him to
check in on nights out. Aron was ready to throw his phone onto the
tracks and walk away with this guy, regardless of who he was. To
rebel against his minder and have a little freedom. A little fun.

“You
seem irritated. I suppose I haven’t
done my due diligence.” The
man held out his hand. “I’m
Graham. I assume you’re Aron.”

Aron
nodded and took the man’s
hand, shaking it. “Yeah,
that would be me.” He
let go, feeling awkward. This wasn’t
supposed to feel like a business meeting.

“Suppose
you want to skip the formalities and go straight to the hotel,”
Graham said.

“Sure.”
Aron felt the balloon
of hope that this guy might want him for more than a quick fuck
burst. Disappointment flooded in. He considered walking away, but the
thought of going home empty-handed seemed worse. To have to explain
once again to Dan that this was the reality for men like him. Dan
would commiserate with him, pretending to understand, when truth was
he could (and did) hook up with hot guys on a regular basis.

Aron
led Graham out of the station. The seedy hotel he used for encounters
was right across the street. Graham followed in his wake, letting him
do all the talking. Graham insisted on paying—in cash—and Aron’s
heart sank a little further when he noticed the imprint of a wedding
band on the man’s ring finger.

Aron
decided not to care. He needed a fuck, regardless, and this guy was
willing. His reasons or motivations didn’t
matter. Graham swiped the key off the counter and they climbed a
narrow staircase to the second floor. Their room was right at the end
of the corridor. The pervasive smell of mold only intensified when
they opened the door to reveal a double bed with a plain comforter
and little else. Graham shut the door and engaged the locks.

Graham
stopped in his tracks as he looked at Aron shedding his clothes like
an unwanted skin. “You
don’t
really want this, do you?”

“My
ad said I was looking for a relationship. I was thinking more ‘movie
and dinner’ than
‘quick
fuck in a hotel room’ to
tell you the truth,” Aron
snapped. “Whatever.
I’ll
take what I can get.”

“My
wife is dead, actually,” Graham
explained. “Passed
a year ago. I still wear the ring, but I didn’t
want to freak you out on our first meeting, so I took it off.”

“Oh.
Sorry.” Aron
sat down on the edge of the bed, naked. Feeling self-conscious, he
covered his surgery scars from Graham’s
scrutiny with his arm. Aron couldn’t
get a good read on the guy to see if he was lying or not, but he
wished he’d
get naked and get it over with.

“Are
your defenses this high on every date you go on?”

“Dating
in my situation isn’t
exactly fun.” Aron
chided himself. Graham was right, he was prickly. Graham already knew
who he was, so why was he on the defensive? Sure, the date hadn’t
exactly gone to plan, but he’d
known it wouldn’t.
What else had he expected from an online classified
ad?

Graham
sat down on the side of the bed and took off his socks and shoes. He
placed them over the back of a chair and seemed to pause a moment.
“I’m
not sure I can do this.”

Rejection.
Again. Rage surged through Aron’s
veins and he stood up, picking up his pants and climbing into them to
cover his nudity. “I
was upfront in the ad. This whole thing has been a waste of fucking
time.” He
grabbed his faded t-shirt, pulling it on like armor.

“Wait.
Don’t go. Please.”
Graham sounded so
desperate that it gave Aron pause. “Look,
I—I’m
not good at this," he stammered. “Maybe
we could just talk for a few?”

“I’m
not here to indulge your curiosity,”
Aron said. “I
am actually looking for a date. It’s
a lonely fucking world out there.”

“You
have Dan,” Graham
pointed out.

“Please
stop that. Dan is not my boyfriend, nor will he ever be.”

“Why?
From that picture, it looked like he cares a great deal about you.
And your phone has buzzed at least six times since we came in this
room. That’s
him texting you, isn’t
it?”

“He’s
checking up on me. He didn’t
agree with me meeting someone off Craigslist.”
Aron shook his head,
frustrated. Why did it always have to come back to Dan? Even his mom
loved to comment on what a cute couple they made.

“I
wish I had a friend like that,”
Graham said.

“Look,
if you want to fuck Dan, I’ll
give you his number. It’s—"

“No,
no, you’ve
got it all wrong.” Graham
sighed. “Wow,
my game is off.” He
rubbed his temples. “I’m
a bit lonely. That’s
all. I don’t
know a lot of people from our community. My wife, she was always
accepting enough that I didn’t
need to belong anywhere else. But now—now she’s
gone and I don’t
know where I fit.”

“I
thought you were lying about the wife thing, to be honest.”
Aron sighed. “I’ve
been an asshole, haven’t
I?”

“It
happens.” Graham
forced a smile. He put his arms up in the air and pulled off his worn
sweater, revealing old scars across his chest. Aron’s
mouth fell open and he made sure to clamp it shut again before he
could look too much like a goldfish.

“You’re—"

“An
old, washed up, recently widowed transman, yes,”
Graham confessed.
“I’m
flattered that you couldn’t
tell right off the bat. I’ve
been on T for a very long time, but there are still times I look in
the mirror and don’t
feel masculine enough.”

“Wow.”
Aron sat down on the
edge of the bed. “I’ve
been such a jerk. I’m
sorry.”

“No,
I’m the one who
should be sorry. I thought I was ready for this, but I’m
not. I tried to act like someone I’m
not in a terrible attempt to impress you. I’m
glad this all fell flat, to tell you the truth. I think I'm only
looking for friends right now. Would you be my friend, Aron?”

“Yeah,
of course.” Aron smiled. “Why
couldn’t
we have started with that, huh?”
He pulled out his
phone and checked his tweets again. There was Dan, with another
picture of them together. Graham leaned over to look.

“So
what’s
the real reason you won’t
date this Dan guy?”

“I
told you, he—" Aron let out a long sigh. Graham had been
honest with him all along the line. Perhaps he deserved a little
honesty in exchange. Besides, it had been a while since he’d
had the chance to sit and chat with another transman.

“Dan
and I were friends at school. He knew me…
before. We even tried
dating as teens, before he came out as gay and I as trans. I—I
don’t
know if he accepts me as a man, deep down in his heart.”

“He’s
gay and he’s
still interested in you. That should tell you all you need to know.”

“I
know. I’ve
told myself that, but…” Aron
shook his head. “He
could have any man he wanted. He’s
the kind of guy people don’t
swipe past on Grindr. I think he feels sorry for me. He knows what I
went through.”

Graham
raised an eyebrow. “Have
you tried talking to him about it?”

“I
don’t
want to ask him straight-up. What if he does only feel sorry for me?
What if he doesn’t
take me seriously as a man? I couldn’t
cope with that. It would spell the end of our friendship. I don’t
have anyone else.”

“You
have me,” Graham
said.

“I
know, but we just met. Dan and I go way back.”
Aron sighed. “I
should say something, shouldn’t
I?”

“We
didn’t… we
didn’t
fuck,” Aron
mumbled. He put his hands in his pockets of his hoodie, fidgeting
with an old candy wrapper.

“He
got spooked out? You were upfront in the ad. He knew what he was
getting himself into.” Dan
sighed. “I’m
so sick of people not treating you with any respect. Give me his
number, I’ll
give him a piece of my mind.”

Aron
laughed. “You
don’t
need to do that. But thanks.”

“Why
not?”

“We
both got cold feet. It’s
okay, Dan. We talked a lot and…
I figured some things
out.” Aron
closed the distance between them. Dan looked up at him with confusion
in his eyes. Aron leaned in and captured Dan’s
lips in a deep kiss. Dan reciprocated, wrapping his arms around
Aron’s
waist. They parted for breath, and Aron smiled.

Yeah,
there was chemistry all right. He’d
been trying too hard to tell himself otherwise, because the idea of
falling off this cliff with Dan was terrifying. If they hit the
ground—

You
have me. Graham’s
voice reverberated in his mind. Aron swallowed. Graham was right. He
wasn’t
alone, and pushing away someone who was already his whole world for
fear of losing him made no sense at all.

“You
serious?” Dan
asked. Aron steeled his heart for rejection, waiting for Dan to come
back and say he only saw Aron as a friend, that he’d
been keeping his bed warm as a kindness. He awaited the inevitable
pity in Dan’s
eyes, but it never came. Instead, Dan stood up and pulled Aron into
his arms, holding him like he was the most precious thing in the
world.

“I’m
serious,” Aron
confirmed.

“I’ve
waited for years to hear you say that. I thought you weren’t
interested in me.” Dan
buried his face in Aron’s
shoulder, kissing his neck and releasing a heavy sigh.

“You
thought I
wasn’t
interested in you?”

“Yeah,
dummy. I’ve
only been standing here waving a neon sign this whole time. When you
didn’t
bite, I thought you didn’t
want me as more than a friend. Even when we fucked, you were distant.
As if you’d
rather be anywhere else.”

“That’s
not—" Aron closed his eyes. “You’re
out of my league, Dan. You could have any guy you wanted—why the
hell would you want me? I thought you were taking pity on me.”

“You
have a tendency to hate yourself for no good reason. I do find you
attractive, Aron—more than that, I love you, and have for a very
long time.” Dan
pulled away and found the nearest couch, slumping down onto it.
“Well,
that slipped out. Way to come on too strong and freak him out, Dan.”

Aron
walked over to the couch and sat down next to Dan. He placed a hand
on Dan’s
back, drawing comfort from the steady thump of his heartbeat. “No…
it’s okay. It feels
good to hear you say that. I guess…
when I saw those
pictures you posted on Twitter, I worried that you were yearning for
the old days. You know—before I transitioned.”

Dan
smacked his head. “Oh
God, I didn’t
even think about that. I’m
sorry.” He
sighed. “Even
when we were still in school, I knew I was gay and attracted to
you—another guy. I forget sometimes that the rest of the world
doesn’t
see it that way. When I posted those pictures, I was reminiscing on
how close we were… not
trying to remind you of difficult times.”

Aron
closed his eyes, marveling at how he’d
got it all wrong. Dan did see him as a man—had seen him as such
before he’d
even accepted it himself. He broke into a smile, relaxing in Dan’s
presence for the first time in too long. The glass house of negative
assumptions he’d
built to protect him from the idea of Dan’s
rejection shattered, leaving his fragile heart exposed.

“I
love you too, Dan,” Aron
whispered. Dan’s
eyes widened and he leaned in for a kiss. Aron’s
phone vibrated in his pocket. He finished their delightful kiss
before reaching into his hoodie and pulling out his phone.

“How’d
it go?”
Graham’s text read.

Aron
reached over and hugged Dan, pressing their faces together. He
snapped a selfie with the front-facing camera and sent it back to
Graham. Graham sent back a smiling emoji.

“What
are you up to?” Dan
asked, leaning over to check Aron’s phone.

“I'm
texting the new friend I made today. My classified connection. He’s
the one who made me confront my feelings for you.”

“Awesome.
Tell him ‘thank
you’ from
me.”

“In
a sec. I need to update my Facebook relationship status.”
Aron chose ‘in
a relationship’ and
saved the setting. He uploaded the picture of them to Facebook and
Twitter, fired off Dan’s ‘thank
you’ to
Graham, and put his phone down. As Dan pressed him into the couch
with kisses, his phone screen continued to light up with likes and
retweets.

He’d
look at them later. Right now, Aron was busy appreciating the man
right in front of him.

Author
Bio:

Victoria
was born in the United Kingdom but emigrated to the United States at
age 21. She’s
bisexual, non-binary (she/her or they/them), happily married, and
still shouts in a British accent. She lives with her husband in
Pennsylvania where she spends a lot of time playing and talking about
video games, especially Japanese role-playing games.

Besides
the Culture Wars and New World Rising series, she is the author of a
variety of LGBTQA titles, includingnovels
The Nero Protocol (m/m), The Forbidden Zone (m/m) and The Best Of
Both Worlds (f/f/m), contracted with Less Than Three Press. She loves
to write about all colors of the rainbow and celebrate love wherever
it may be found.

Ideologically,
she can be classified as a humanist. She believes in equality for all
and the progression of the human race through logic and reason, with
the principles of science, not superstition, at the core of that. She
believes in a positive future based on hope and generosity, instead
of negativity.

She
is a fierce advocate for the freedom of speech, with a firm belief
that censorship, and the support of suppression of information by
pressure groups is a violation of the fundamental human right to free
expression. She argues that acting with empathy, instead of being
obsessed with semantics, is the way to treat all human beings with
the dignity they deserve. She has a dark, edgy sense of humor, and
tires quickly of people who are easily offended.

She
is totally obsessed with science fiction, space, and the Big
Questions surrounding the human condition. She's convinced of the
inherent goodness and intelligence of the human race, and can't be
convinced for long that we're not deserving of redemption.